


Danger In the Wild

by LadyPenn (i_write_a_lot)



Category: White Collar
Genre: Gen, Head Injury, Minor Violence, Other - Freeform, Peter to the rescue, injured Neal, outside Neal's radius, some light swearing, woods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 06:07:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/732294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_write_a_lot/pseuds/LadyPenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal is injured, alone, and running from his kidnappers when he falls unconscious. Jezabel is a woman who lives on the outskirts of New York, and she takes care of him. But there’s still the question of the kidnappers, and whether or not Peter will get to them in time before  anyone gets killed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Danger In the Wild

**Author's Note:**

> -This has to be the most unplausible fic that I've written for White Collar so far, and yes I still don't own White Collar, much to my dissatisfaction.

Jezabel was a thirty-one year old woman, single, and loved her city, New York, most of the time. While she was living in a small cabin off the outskirts of New York on a piece of property that had about ten acres, she was also a writer and a photography, and damn good at what she did too.   
But she had absolutely no family, and never once married.   
So she was more than a bit surprised when she’d walked out to her driveway to check the mail, and found an unconscious (handsome) young man laying in the middle of her road, looking more than a bit banged up.  
With a frown, she’d checked his pulse and was relieved to find that he was alive still-though his pulse was weak, and he moaned once as she placed her chilled fingers against his neck-and then she lifted him up and started carrying him to the cabin, ignoring the mailbox.   
Some things were more important.  
Once inside, she began doing the training she’d had when she’d done nursing a bit for a few years back in her early twenties-she began taking off his wet things, and tried to find a cell phone or wallet (nothing) and managed to locate only one knife that had been on his body.   
She put him near the fireplace, placed a cool rag on his forehead, and checked him for other injuries.   
He had a few bruises on his chest, and a concussion, but beyond that he seemed alright.  
She began cooking some soup, and thought that when he woke, she would check to make sure he remembered everything.   
If he didn’t…  
Then there might just well be a problem.  
~*~  
Her guest woke the next night, groaning as he slowly sat up, and looked around. She was reading at her favorite chair next to the fireplace, and closed her book (The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins) and set it on the nightstand. He looked around before he finally spotted her, and tensed immediately.   
“Where am I?”  
“Safe,” She said quietly, her voice rough from not talking to someone in so long. She went out to town a few times a week, but even then she didn’t talk to people much. She mostly liked being on her own, though sometimes…it was nice having someone to talk to. “I’m Jezabel. I pulled you out of my driveway. You were unconscious, and had a head injury.” She explained.  
“Neal. Caffrey,” He said, sounding just as quiet. “I…uh…need to borrow your phone.” He said, running a hand through his hair.   
She pointed, and he got up-wobbly-and quickly made his way there.  
“Peter? Peter, it’s me. Yeah, I’m fine. I got away…I’m…I’m at a woman’s house. Her name’s Jezabel…”  
“Jezabel Collins,” She answered, and Neal startled, not having heard her come up to him. “May I?”   
He wordlessly handed her the phone, and she took it.   
“Neal?” A voice-smooth, handsome, and concerned. “You there?”  
“Hello?” She asked, and the voice immediately changed-challenging, worried, suspicious-as he responded.   
“This is Special Agent Peter Burke. Who is this?”  
“I’m Jezabel Collins, Agent Burke. Your…friend…was in my driveway, unconscious. He had no ID or anything on him, and so I took him into my home and healed him as best as I could.” She explained.   
“Oh,” His tone changed again-relief, and exhaustion. “That’s excellent, that’s good…thanks, Ms. Collins…um, where are you?”  
She raised an eyebrow, and answered hesitantly,   
“My home is 201c south of New York Rd., off the highway.” She informed him. “It’s a little out of the way, so you might get a bit lost…”  
“Ah, we’ve got GPS, ma’am, and a squadful of people who’re anxious to get our partner back. May I talk to him? Please?” Peter’s voice sounded hesitant, wary, and hopeful. She handed the phone back to Neal, who quickly began speaking.   
“Peter, no I’m fine…I’ll just call a cab…really, you don’t have too…uh-“’  
Without warning the doors slammed open, and four men stormed, aiming the guns straight at them. She, standing next to Neal, clutched his arm in shocked surprise which wasn’t yet fear. A fifth man strode in, looking dangerous.   
“Caffrey.” He said, sounding pleasant. “I thought you would still be alive.”   
Jezabel noticed that the phone had been set quickly onto the table, and that they-the FBI man-was likely listening in on them.   
“Rodgers,” Neal responded tightly, holding Jezabel behind him. “Leave her alone, and I’ll come with you-she’s innocent in this.”  
Jezabel looked at him fearfully, hoping that he wasn’t about to do something incredibly stupid…  
And that was when, miraculously, the FBI showed up-having obviously been heading their way even as they’d been on the phone.   
“FBI, put your hands in the air!”   
The men quickly did as asked, but the fifth man-Rodgers-dashed towards her and Neal, obviously looking for a means of escape. Neal pushed her into a chair, and whirled, but Rogers grabbed Neal’s arm and twisted him around so that he was now facing the police, who were training guns on him, while the others were all being taken out of her home.   
Then a man stepped forward, his gun aimed towards Neal and Rodgers, as she slowly stood, moving towards her stove, searching for her cast iron skillet.  
“Rodgers,” She realized with a start that it was Peter Burke’s voice. Her hand hesitated in reaching for the skillet, but then grabbed hold of it firmly. “Let my partner go, and maybe you’ll get a light sentence-”  
Peter had barely finished speaking, when a very loud DING! sounded thoughout the room, and Neal was slowly released. Peter yanked Neal away as Rodgers slid to the floor, out cold, a funny expression on his face, revealing her-Jezabel-standing behind him, a cast iron skillet ready to swing down and whack him in the head again.  
Astonished officers looked back at her, even as Peter Burke began chuckling.  
“Thank you ma’am,” He said, admiringly. “That was some hit you handed to him. I appreciate you helping my partner out. Perhaps you’d like to come with us for a bit? I’m afraid you might have to help file a report by giving your statement.” He said apologetically.   
“As long as you get these monsters out of my house,” She kicked Rodgers in the chest as she moved towards him. Rodgers groaned, as Neal chuckled. “Of course. Are you all right, young man?” She asked Neal, concerned.   
“I’m fine,” He told her reassuringly. She studied him, and then said mildly,   
“I will get the ice packet for your wrist, you just stay right there with your FBI friend.” She said, and marched to her kitchen, even as Peter was laughing.  
“Peter! It’s not funny!” Neal was protesting while she grabbed the ice packet and put her skillet back where it belonged, hanging above the stove.   
“We should give her a medal, do you think, Diana?” Peter asked, his tone one of amusement and real relief. She half-smiled, thinking that things were likely going to be all right now.   
“Definitely boss. EMTs are on their way. Ma’am,” The woman-Diana-inclined her head before marching Rodgers out of the house, even as he appeared groggily out of it, too dazed to fight.  
“I have to say, Ms. Collins, that it’s a real pleasure meeting you.” Peter said sincerely, giving her a smile.   
She smiled in return, thinking that perhaps it was time she moved back into the city, if there were nice young gentlemen like Neal Caffrey and Peter Burke living in it.  
~*~


End file.
